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Download a few Okkervil River mp3s and you might suspect a gig by the Texas collective will be an exercise in lighter-waving. But, on the evidence of a positively riotous 75-minute set at the Scala on Tuesday night, this couldn’t be more inaccurate. As it turns out, the band come less imbued with the spirit of rock & roll than positively sodden in the stuff.
That much is obvious from the moment the six men of Okkervil River (named after a Trotsky novella) stride on stage. After a few salutations and a courteous hello from chief singer Will, it’s straight into ‘The President’s Dead’, a catchy anthem anchored around the three guitar players. That segues into the equally noisy ‘Black’. Both are thigh-slapping and toe-tappingly fast and both are much appreciated by the crowd once the gang finally pause for breath.
By the time a fourth furious frenzy, ‘The Latest Toughs’, has passed, Gigwise is thoroughly puzzled. Not only do the Texans sound far rowdier than Limewire has suggested, but the well-clod, mid-to-late 20s crowd are also proving vastly more rambunctious than initially predicted. In fact, all around the cosy Scala main room, including up on stage, ties are being collectively loosened, top buttons undone and pony tails untied.
The fifth song turns out to be of the anticipated slower variety. But this is no bad thing, for ‘A Girl in Port’ raises the concert to a new high. As pretty couplets cum nautical metaphors - “I’m a weak and lonely sort; I’m not sailing just for sport” - trip off Will’s tongue, Jonathan’s keyboard peals tremulously, Scott chips with a cornet solo and an ocean of heads sway happily in the darkness below.
A song later and the now positively dishevelled Will admits to not specialising in crowd chatter. “My banter is saying I have no banter”, he confesses. But no-one seems to care much anyway. In fact, there is unbridled love in the air: many fans know nearly every word of nearly every song, and recognise each tune mere seconds through the intro; while the band appear genuinely chuffed at the euphoria they generate.
There’s quite a lot generated at the conclusion of Okkervil River Song, with the entire sextet innovatively downing tools (including maracas, a banjo and an accordion) and singing the final verse as one. If that’s good, what follows is better still. Beginning with a thrashing, raw electrical guitar, ‘So Come Back’, ‘I Am Waiting’ is the night’s stand-out song. Fast then slow, up then down and loud then totally silent, it’s anchored around Will’s startlingly-pure voice – his mouth stretched impossibly wide as he belts out the poignant lyrics.
Watching such artistry in this relatively small room is a real treat. But it may be a pleasure soon unavailable, as Okkervil River’s star is rising. Partly this is down to the success of sound-a-slightly-likes The Hold Steady, but chiefly it’s due to a well-received new album, ‘The Stage Names’, and its best song, ‘Our Life is Not’ a ‘Movie or Maybe’. Duly delivered an hour into the set, the throbbing chords and high notes of this energetic sing-along seem certain to signify the concert’s end.
But like any genuine fans’ band, Okkervil River close with a tune that only longstanding disciples will know. Two in fact: For Real and then Westfall. After the final string is plucked and last cymbal crashed, the lights come up and everyone looks pleased as punch. Well-listened cats who have just gotten some quality cream, they file out hoping to keep Okkervil River as an unknown, unappreciated quantity for as long as possible. Many more shows as good as this and they face quite a job…
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